Beating the Magic Out
by Tall Tails - Feline Jaye
Summary: The Dursley's abused and neglected Harry Potter all in the vain hope that they could 'beat the magic out' of him. But what if they'd succeeded?
1. Prologue

I spent a day on-and-off with this concept and it's honestly one that's been in my head for quite a while.

Hope you all enjoy - and remember that reviews are the bane of a writers existence. *grin*

* * *

Harry didn't question his Uncle's order when he was told to go get the newly arrived mail. Nor did he think to shuffle through the letters (_Why should he? No one wrote to him anyway_). He merely fetched said letters, deposited them in front of his Uncle and returned to cooking breakfast.

He didn't bat an eyelash when his Uncle half-choked on a string of bacon, his eyes bulging out at an unusual letter not addressed to any Dursley. He also missed the significant glance between his guardians while he busied himself with another portion of this morning's fry-up.

He didn't think of any other answer than,

"No sir, of course not."

In the utmost sincerity when his Aunt and Uncle asked him if he'd read the letter addressed (_Surely by mistake._) to him. He responded just the same when his Aunt explained that it was from a school of magic; an invitation to learn said magic.

Sent to bed under the stairs, confused by his Aunt's lenience in letting him eat some leftover dessert, Harry thought nothing more on the subject, though he did dream of the flying motorbike once more.

Meanwhile his guardians sat beaming at their television, pleased not with the sit-com but with the fact that they had indeed managed to beat the magic out of their nephew.

Harry Potter would not be the wizard his parents were.

The next morning, Harry did as he was told and wrote on the back of the parchment with a pen that he was declining the offer to study at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Not knowing how to deliver the letter, Petunia stamped it, dropped it off at the local post box and hoped for the best.

The letter gave Professor Minerva McGonagall a near-heart attack and it wasn't until she downed a claming draught that she could think of what to do with such a reply. Recalling what she had observed of the Dursleys, she made it her highest priority to pay them a visit. Though between this decision and her calming draught she did, of course, consult Albus Dumbledore.

She checked what times Muggle schools typically finished and arrived at Number Four Privet Drive at a prompt four o'clock the next day. It was Petunia who met her at the door – everyone else save Harry was out at the time and Harry knew better than to do something as revealing as opening the front door.

Minerva found herself drawing distinct parallels between Lily and her sister as Petunia made it adamantly known that she did not in the slightest appreciate the Transfiguration Professor's presence. The older woman did her best to stay as genial as she could manage having quickly concluded that Harry's declination was likely a result of his guardians direct interference.

But as Minerva got to the crux of the matter and it became clear exactly **why** she was imposing on the Dursley's home, Petunia became rather more relaxed. Disturbingly so, in the Professors opinion. Only a woman with nothing to loose could look so relaxed. Thus it was with no little trepidation that Professor McGonagall asked to speak with Harry – alone.

Harry soon found himself drawn from his garden solace as per his Aunt's order. He approached the lounge room with much worry weighing down his movements. He knew his standing orders one of the most prominent being that he **never** spoke to strangers. But his Aunt had given him permission this time, so he entered the room and, seeing a prim elderly lady sitting opposite the door, he took a seat.

For a moment, the lady with her tightly wound grey hair just sat and watched him. He lowered his eyes (_"Don't stare! Don't be so rude!"_) and obeyed one of the other standing rules about speaking to others; never speak unless spoken to.

The lady in green asked him how he liked it at the Dursley's. His confused twist of his expression was missed only by him as he responded that it was a good home, that the Dursley's were fair and that he knew he was lucky to have such a household.

Silence was the flavour again as Harry's downcast gaze missed the prim lady's thinned lips. She tried again;

"Did you receive your Hogwarts letter?"

"Yes Ma'am."

"And what did you think of it?"

For a moment his confusion was so overwhelming that he tipped his head up and looked her straight in the eye. His eyes widened a little as he realised what he'd down and swiftly looked away again.

"Wi-with all due respect, I wasn't very interested, ma'am."

Professor McGonagall was often tasked with visiting Muggle-borns' homes when they were accepted at Hogwarts. Many Muggles had their doubts about Hogwarts.

But this was one rebuttal she had never come across.

"You **weren't interested** in Hogwarts? Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry?"

"No ma'am. I have no interest in magic."

Harry repeated his most insistent lesson in a deadpan tone. It was this very tone that worried the Professor the most and she felt that the tone was worth the guilt over playing her next and last card.

"Both your parents were magical, Mr. Potter. Both James and Lily attended Hogwarts."

The eleven-year-olds look and accompanying reply sent shivers up her spine for reasons she wouldn't know until years later.

"I'm not my parents, ma'am."

Deep into that same evening, Professor McGonagall swirled her tumbler and reflected that today out of all days she definitely deserved her blastscotch. Speaking to Harry Potter - Harry Potter who was **not** interested in magic - had certainly been harrowing. But far less so than her meeting with Hogwarts Headmaster that past afternoon.

The Headmaster would talk to the boy.

The Headmaster would **convince** the boy.

The Headmaster would coerce the boy into attending.

The Headmaster would **force** the boy into attending.

The Headmaster would do **something**.

Or so she had thought.

Instead, she was treated to a single dull twinkle of his ancient eyes and told;

"If that is indeed what young Harry wishes, then we've no right to force him otherwise. Not while there is no immediate threat to his saftey."

Which meant that there was no hope of magic that Harry Potter would be attending Hogwarts that year.

So, all in all, Minerva McGonagall did indeed deserve her single malt blastscotch.

* * *

Sorry Dumbledore haters - no bashing here. I always thought it was kinda OOC when Dumbledore would go to the ends of magic to force Harry to go to Hogwarts.

Please remember to review.


	2. Year One

I'm very sorry for not sticking to my deadline. I also can no longer rememebr my deadline. *sweatdrop*

I'll try harder to keep on top of postings next time. But for now, here's the next chapter!

* * *

As the wizarding school year commenced, the train was primarily filled by one persistent whisper;

"He should be eleven this year, right? So where's Harry Potter?"

Ron Weasley sat on his own in a carriage down the end of the train, interrupted only by the Sweet Cart Lady (whom he regrettably turned away), by a nervous boy his age looking for a toad and by a witch his age doing the same.

He was struck, for the first time, just how unlike the Burrow Hogwarts could be. He was, after all, for the first time truly alone.

October rolled around, and Ron Weasley was making his way down to the Halloween feast with Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas. He loudly complained about their year's busy-body witch, that is: know-it-all Hermione Granger. A stifled sob caused the trio to turn and catch a few of the Gryffindor girl's death glares and a bushy brown head of hair rushed away from the scene. The boys laughed it off and headed for the feast.

Part way through the Halloween feast, they were interrupted by the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor bursting in through the doors and announcing the presence of a troll. Ron did what most panicked students were doing and followed the Gryffindor prefects back up to the Gryffindor Tower.

No one thought to wonder where Hermione Granger was.

She had no one friendly enough to spare her a thought.

Professor McGonagall's stiff demeanor was cracked after the troll was subdued and they finally identified the student that must have been hiding under the sinks.

Professor Dumbledore insisted on taking on the morbid task of informing Dr and Dr Granger of their only daughter's untimely death. The Granger's silently swore never to send another child off into the magical world again.

The Forbidden Forest soon becomes host to thrilling and chilling rumors once more as one of the older students swears up and down that they saw a Norwegian Ridgeback flying in the forest. The staff have their own disturbance as an unusually melancholy Hagrid mopes about the grounds. The Headmaster tells them all that he'll just need some time.

Called away by an urgent owl from the Ministry of Magic, it was only moments after Albus Dumbledore arrived in London that he realised how big a mistake such an action was. With all due urgancy, he made his way back to Hogwarts and stopped for nothing as he charged through every defense protecting the Sorcerer's Stone. Every defense except, of course, the very last one. His own defense.

"Quirinus Quirrell."

The tubaned man turned to fall under the off-center gaze of a deadly serious Headmaster.

"And, I presume, Tom Riddle."

The hiss from under the turban was more than enough to confirm Dumbledore's assumption. Professor Quirrell was appointed to his position for a reason and he puts up a formidable fight, especially with Voldemort aiding him. But in the end he is trying to defeat Albus Dumbledore and his fight is a lost cause.

Quirrell is subdued and sentenced to the Kiss by the Ministry. Albus has an emotional discussion with his long time friend Nicholas Flamel and the Sorcerer's Stone is destroyed.

* * *

Reviews are lovely - I bet most of you have heard that over 9000! times by now. :)


	3. Year Two

I might be on schedule? I'm not sure. Huh.

Anyway! Here's your next chapter. Expect another in about a week. :)

* * *

Dobby overhears his master and mistress as they make plans for the coming year and they wonder aloud how exactly to get the diary into Hogwarts. Dobby knows that this will be bad news for the school, but can think of no one past his young master to warn.

Lucius Malfoy returns home smug one evening, having used an alteration with Arthur Weasley to unknowingly slip the diary into the youngest Weasley's possessions.

Even as the pretifications pile up, no one but the staff investigates and the staff are too overwhelmed by possiblity to get on track. It becomes increasingly obvious to the Professors that the fifty year old incident of the Chamber of Secrets is repeating it's self. This rumor soon spreads through the student body as fearful students write home to their parents who in turn relay certain rumors from their own parents.

Ginny Weasley talks to no one if she can help it, but spends all her free time writing in a diary. Her withdrawing from any social circle goes largely unnoticed. People much perfer to concentrate on Dumbledore's removal from office or the fact that Hogwarts Groundskeeper has been sent to Azkaban.

Not long after, Ginny fully succumbs to the diary's seductive magic and makes her way into the Chamber of Secrets. After being drafted to find the young girl, Professor Lockheart mysteriously dissappears.

No one knows were the Chamber is.

No one thinks of Miserable Moaning Myrtle.

No one can speak Parseltounge.

No one saves Ginny Weasley.

Molly Weasley is nigh inconsolable at the revelation that her daughter is most certainly dead. They can't be sure though - there's not even a body to bury. Fred and George can't think of a joke to save their lives (_Or their sister's_). Percy stares at the room of Weasley's and Headmistress McGonagall facading calm but hiding a dead look in his eyes (_As dead as his sister_). Ron bores a hole into the floor and the newly appointed Headmistress swears she can see his metaphorical hole-in-the-floor smoking as if lit on fire (_Is that what killed his sister?_).

Molly almost withdraws all four of her children that remain enrolled at Hogwarts, but is saved from rash action by her distraught husband and reconsiders such a move over the holidays.

The freshly embodied Tom Marvolo Riddle (_I am Lord Voldemort._) finds himself laughing at just how easy he sneaked out of the supposedly so formidable Hogwarts Castle. He leaves the grounds to hide and plot.

Minerva McGonagall tries, but the Board of Governers (notably headed by one Lucius Malfoy) won't budge on the issue. The best she can manage is hiring (_**Her**__? Hiring __**him**__?_) Professor Dumbledore to fill the roll of Transfiguration Professor.

* * *

As water is to a thirsting man, reviews are to a writer. :)


	4. Year Three

First, a quick reply to Stauneauge:

Don't worry, you didn't sound harsh; I love for everyone to enjoy my work. But I don't take it badly if someone doesn't.  
When I was writing this, I didn't actually refer to the books much (guilty!), so I was recalling events off of my abysmal memory. Again, if you have any specific events you'd like to hear about, don't hesitate to PM me about them. Your other idea (which I won't disclose lest I wish to implement it) was pretty good and I may go over the story and add it.  
A quick correction: The Dursley's didn't 'beat the curiousity' out of Harry. I imagine Harry is still a very curious child. What the Dursleys **did** do was 'beat the magic' out of Harry - they managed to condition him so well that he automatically isn't interested in magic. He probably flinches in class when he forgets to say please and the teachers ask him "What's the magic word?" I imagine his inquisitive mind found other interests, though.  
Hope that cleared some things up.

And now on with the story!

* * *

It is with some sense of bittersweet luck that Arthur Weasley wins the Daily Prophet annual Grand Prize Galleon Draw. Molly insists on visiting Charlie, whom they could not get in contact with to share the sad news. The subdued family consisting of Arthur, Molly, Bill, Percy, Fred, George, Ron and Scabbers the rat is photographed to accompany the article of their good fortune.

Soon afterwards Magical Britain (and to a lesser degree, Muggle Britain) is sent into alarm as the first ever escapee from Azkaban is reported: one Sirius Black.

Seeing the obvious threat to Harry Potter's safety, Headmistress McGonagall thought it fair to pay the boy (and his family) a visit.

"So this Black fellow," Vernon gruffly tries to summerise "One of your lot-"

"A wizard, yes." Interrupts an annoyed McGonagall.

"Yeah, that, so he's the reason the boy's parents got killed. Right?"

McGonagall can't help but flinch at how flippant Harry's uncle is about Lily and James' death - especially in front of him. For his part, Harry doesn't seem perturbed.

"Essentially, yes. Since Harry won't have the security of Hogwarts for most of the year…" She leaves the option hanging for a moment, but no one bites. "Since he won't have the school's security, I must insist on applying security to this house."

"Now see here!" It's now Petunia's turn to talk. "I shan't have your lot-"

"Magical folk."

"**Your lot** sulking around my house. Harry will go start to and from school and will stay home any other time. That is enough security."

Headmistress McGonagall stands to her full straight-backed height and coolly informs the family,

"Unfortunately for you, Mrs. Dursley, this is not up to you. But don't worry," she gives a full-force matron stare down her nose and into Petunia, "If you can tell they're there then they're not doing their job properly."

Upon her return to Hogwarts, she and Dumbledore contact an old organisation and roster surveillance for Harry Potter as best as they can manage.

Harry himself has a nice break from the usual monotony of Number 4 Privet Drive when a large, black dog befriends him. The happy dog seems as delighted to see Harry as Harry is to see the dog. Just after the start of the school year, the large dog stops following Harry and the boy finds the word "BYE" scratched into the ground were he'd usually meet up with the dog.

The first notable incident at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry is the appointment of a new Care of Magical Creatures Professor. The Professor, though, is not note worthy on their own. The second note worthy incident is the attack on the Gryffindor Tower portrait - the Fat Lady. Terrified to return, she is replaced by the only portrait who dares. Though the school is searched, no one finds any trace of Sirius Black.

Soon afterwards, Professor Snape substitutes for the newly appointed Professor Lupin. Though he sets the homework, no one is dedicated enough to their work to finish the essay before Professor Lupin returns and revokes the essay on werewolves.

Months later, when Scabbers goes missing it is a hard slap in the face to everyone who was trying to pretend that Ron hadn't been very effected by his sister's death when he says (with a hard tone);

"Scabbers is dead."

His Seamus and Dean try and laugh off the morbid statement and tell the redhead that the rat's just missing and that it's probably Mrs. Norris' fault. Ron calmly repeats,

"Scabbers is dead. You're fooling yourself if you believe otherwise."

When soon afterwards, Sirius Black breaks into the Gryffindor Tower, the house is not woken up by Ron's terrified screams but rather his furious ones. Reportedly, Ron had woken up to find Black above him, holding a knife. Ron had told him that 'he wasn't here' (_Of course he wasn't - didn't everyone know that Harry Potter had completely failed to reappear in the magical world?_) and proceeded to grab his wand and order Black out of the castle.

As the year draws to a close, Professor Snape 'lets slip' Professor Lupin's werewolf nature and Remus Lupin decides to resign.

Peter Pettigrew, aka Wormtail, aka Scabbers, realising how vulnerable he is with Sirius Black looking for him, does his best to search for any trace of his Dark Lord. Surprisingly enough, his research bares fruit one night when a black haired and unnaturally red eyed boy of no more than fifteen approaches him. Approaches him and congratulates him for being the first follower to bother flocking back to the Dark Lord Voldemort.

* * *

Reviews, how I love thee;

Let me count the ways.

... That's totally not that quote. *heh*


	5. Year Four

**Great apologies for such a long delay!**

As some of you may know, fanfiction net was being odd lately. Thus, I was unable to update the story.

Also, Year 3 has been edited thanks to the meddling of Stauneauge . :) Thank you for your helpful meddling.

If anyone else spots something I've missed, please speak up about it in a review.

And now to the the story!

* * *

As the crowds made their way back to their tents after a roaring Quidditch World Match, chaos erupted. First, it was merely Muggles subdued with magic and humiliated by anonymous magicians. It was only with the casting of the Dark Mark that people truly began to panic.

On Transfiguration Professor Dumbldore's suggestion, Headmistress McGonagall seeks out and hires Alastor 'Mad-eye' Moody. The former Auror accepts the teaching position.

Lord Voldemort is rather pleased to have a second follower in the form of Barty Crouch Junior during this shadowy part of his return. Especially with the information of Professor Moody's appointment and the up coming Triwizard Tournament. Deciding that having an eye inside of Hogwarts would be a good move (_You never know - this year could be the year he shows up_), Moody is attacked and detained and Barty Junior takes his place.

Minerva McGonagall wonders whether hosting the Triwizard Tournament would be such a good idea, but ends up deciding (with a few pokes in this direction from notable staff) that it's just the thing needed to bond the school together once more.

Beauxbatons and Durmstang arrive at Hogwarts and the Goblet of Fire is revealed. On the dinner during which each school's Champion is drawn from the Goblet. The representatives are quarter-Veela Fleur Delacour, Quidditch star Viktor Krum and Hufflepuff's own Cedric Diggory.

At the first task, Cedric Diggory ranks last, having been throughly unprepared for a challenge such as a dragon.

In the second task, his luck is considerably different and Cedric pulls in first place.

With the conclusion of the third task, the Triwizard champion is decided. But this fact is sullied by Hogwarts missing Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor. Even more so when Professor Dumbledore inspects a trunk left behind and finds, in one of the many compartments, a sickly Alastor Moody who claims to have never taught a day that year.

Silently and subtly, Lord Voldemort visit's the houses of each previous member of his Inner Circle. His punishment for their abandonment is not light.

* * *

Short, yes, but hopefully sweet. Probably not worth the wait. *heh*

Reviews, I knew thee once  
Like a dream lost but once found  
Upon a spindle

Is that a real quote? I think I just Frankstein'd a bunch of quotes together...


	6. Year Five

This one is a real chapter. Heh.

Next time I update, I'll officially be a year older. That is - huzzah! Birthday time!

Enjoy!

* * *

Under no restrictions from the Ministry of Magic, Headmistress McGonagall is left free to struggle to find a Professor who will accept the 'cursed' Defense Against the Dark Arts position. Professor Dumbledore surveys the fifth year Gryffindors and ends up sending the prefects badge to Ron Weasley and Parvati Patil.

Through out the year, there are a few reports on Ministry security being compromised. But these reports are vague and spread over an entire year so little attention is paid to them.

Tom Riddle moved with relative ease as the number of his followers grew. With no contestants, his persuasive self found it simple to recruit various creatures and families to fight for his cause.

At the end of the year, there is another reported break in. This time, though the Ministry is unaware of the fact, the break in consists of one Tom Riddle and no one else. After concluding that only someone subject to the prophecy can remove it from its shelf, Voldemort breaks into the Department of Mysteries and steals the prophecy. Returning later to his safe house of Riddle Manor, he hears the full prophecy first hand.

During the following holidays, Albus Dumbledore finds out just how lucky he is to have Severus Snape as his spy. Had Severus not reported back to Dumbledore that he had just been summoned to a meeting and seen the Dark Lord with his own eyes then Dumbledore may never have known Voldemort was back until the first attack.

As it was, Dumbledore could do nothing but quietly inform the Auror Department and reestablish the Order of the Phoenix. Any action more public would alert Voldemort straight away that there was a spy among his inner circle.

* * *

Again, short but hopefully sweet.

Sweet in the "yay chapter" sense. Not the sugar and strawberries sense.

Also, if anyone doesn't understand why certain things turned out how they did (for any chapter) please don't hesitate to question the story's happenings in either a review or a PM. I check both and you'll get a reply. :D

So, i herd u liek review'n?


	7. Year Six

We're nearing the end of the books...

* * *

Professor Dumbledore spends the holidays researching what he can about Voldemort's past. It is while searching the Gaunt's house that he finds a ring and, mesmerised by the awfully familiar symbol on it and magic surrounding it, Albus makes the mistake of putting on the ring.

Returning to Hogwarts, he seeks Severus' aid and they manage to stabilise the curse in his hand. But Albus Dumbledore won't outlive the year. Severus also informs him of some moves Voldemort is making - moves that are very relevant to his life.

As Voldemort quietly regains his full following, and more, he assigns the seventh and sixth year children of his supports a joint task: kill Professor Dumbledore. It is this assignment that Severus informs the Transfiguration Professor of. After deliberation, Albus talks to Headmistress McGonagall and Professor Snape is given the (_cursed_) Defense the Dark Arts position.

Albus takes a few days out of his research schedule to butter up and hire Horace Slughorn for the position of Potions Master. After much manipulation and brokering, the once-retired Professor accepts the position.

The Death Eater's children spend the year plotting. They soon have multiple plans they could put into action, but it's the discovery of the Vanishing Cabinet that they decided takes priority - no assassination plans will be carried out until the cabinet is fixed. Most of them realise the high benefits to not just reporting that their assassination was a success but providing the Dark Lord with a back door into Hogwarts Castle its self.

As the last week of the year rolls around, Albus Dumbledore's research pays off. Bringing with him a Hogwarts House Elf, he makes the journey to a seaside cave and retrieves what he believes to be Slytherin's locket. He returns late to the castle and wearily dismisses the House Elf and makes his way down to the dungeons (_Poppy Pomfrey doesn't need me waking her up at this hour. Severus can brew what's nessicary_). As he sits half-collapsed in a transfigured chair in the Potion Master's quarter, a heavy rap resounds from the door. The Potions Master bids whomever enterance and as the door opens the Transfiguration Professor finds several wands pointed at him. From the corner of his eye, he sees Serverus stand. He gives a slight smile to accompany the twinkle in his eyes as he offers the sixth and seventh year students a metaphorical olive branch. In their eyes, he sees some waver, but the most violent rules here and he is subject to several hexes being aimed at him. He is saved from having to suffer any of the hexes, however, by a well placed Avada Kedavera from the only one standing behind him.

Minerva is alerted just before morning light by the portraits. Still in her dressing gown she rushes to the dungeons but finds nothing but Albus Dumbledore's lifeless body and a distinctly empty private quarters. A staff meeting is called and the portraits in the Headmistress' office are stuffed and gossiping. When too few evidence is found, the missing Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor is a sufficient enough coincidence to successfully pin the blame on him.

The day of Dumbledore's funeral, Lord Voldemort decides to finally make his move. Minister Corneilius Fudge is killed in his home, several Muggle-sympathetic households are attacked and, most importantly, Diagon Alley is raided.

War is very clearly declared.

* * *

So, tell me how you liked it?

(*cough* reviews are amazing *cough*)


	8. Year Seven

Hello, back from the dead.

I am trying to update more regularly, but I'll have to write more regularly first.

* * *

Minerva McGonagall, along with a number of other members from the Order of the Phoenix, walk down the trimmed path and request entrance to Number Four Private Drive.

War has been declared and Harry Potter is needed (_For his saftey or for everyone else's?_).

Pentunia was decidedly unpleased with such an entourage coming down her path and she promptly shuts the door. Or she would have if Minerva's boot hadn't gotten in the way.

"We are not leaving without Harry Potter, Mrs. Dursley. That is final. If we must rest assured we **will** take him by force."

The tone could have sparked emerald green for all its lethality.

So it was with pursed lips that Petunia waved the motley crew inside her perfect house.

"Boy!"

Typically, it was from the back garden that a taller, lankier Harry Potter wandered in from. But a step into the front corridor and one glance at the assembled group and the young man froze under such scrutiny.

Then he recognised the prim lady with a steel bun leading the procession.

Harry's deer-in-the-headlights expression swiftly melted into a soft scowl. The Headmistress knew that tactics such as asking for a seat wouldn't be beneficial, so she quickly got to the heart of the matter.

"You-Know-Who has returned."

Unfortunately, that was about to prove a much more difficult task than she had predicted.

"Who?"

"Oh, yes. Voldemort."

"And who's that?"

An indignant voice came from the crowd,

"How can you not know-!"

But the Headmistress cut it off,

"Voldemort, the dark wizard who killed your parents and will kill many more has returned and declared war."

"Oh." At least, observed the witch, he looked worried at this news.

But then Harry continued.

"I assume you have some sort of magical army? A magical military?"

Again, Minerva McGonagall found herself thrown.

"Well, yes. There are the Aurors but-"

"Then I wish them luck."

Minerva could almost feel the shouts about to start up from behind her. Thankfully, Harry kept on talking.

"And, um, thanks for coming and telling us personally."

Maybe not so thankfully.

"Mr. Potter, I don't think you understand the situation. You will soon be turning seventeen and this house will no longer be protected. You must come with us."

With a skeptical look he asks,

"Or what?"

"Or You-Know-Who will find and murder you. It's for your own good. You must come with us. We'll find you tutors and have you trained as quick as-"

"Trained in magic?"

"Of course."

"No."

The roar of protest rose from behind the Headmistress. Trying to stay calm, her voice cut through the sound;

"You must come with us, Mr. Potter."

The reply was just as cutting;

"I want **nothing** to do with magic!"

His comment swiftly silenced the crowd.

In a quiet tone, Minerva apologised.

"Then I am sorry it had to come to this."

Harry Potter collapsed from her stunner.

The Order of the Phoenix was run from both Hogwarts and the Burrow. It was at the Burrow that Harry stayed.

Or rather, moped.

McGonagall suggested that Molly encourage her son (_They're the same age, right?_) to make friends with Harry. Molly Weasley did so, (_The Light side __**needs**__ Harry Potter._) but found that the results were none to pleasing.

Ron, upon meeting the stubborn, refusing, magical resistant Harry, was not impressed.

Harry, upon meeting the hardened, no nonsense, deadly pragmatic Ron, was not impressed.

To the Order's misfortune, the Burrow was too obvious a place to be hiding the Chosen One. The Burrow was both well warded and well guarded of course, the Death Eater spies all had to stay well hidden and well outside the wards. But both security measures had one major flaw: they were most effective against anyone breaking **in**. Not a teenage boy breaking out because he just wanted to go home.

At least, this time, Harry recognised the shout of "Stupefy!" and tried to run. He couldn't out run the spells, though.

On his back, the not-yet-a-man opened his eyes to meet a pair of crisp red ones. The smile that shared that face made him visibly shiver, causing the nearby Death Eaters to laugh. The face sat back from him and said, in a deceptively kind voice,

"If you would be so kind as to stand, Harry."

Harry stayed on his back, unexplainably terrified, his eyes tracking the man who turned out to not look much older then himself. The man turned and pointed a stick at him. A fog fell over his mind, blurring his surrounds and dulling the local sounds. In his head he heard a voice (_Such a nice, pleasant voice. So kind, so good, so fair._) command him,

"Up."

He promptly stood up and the calming fog disappeared. Confused, he looked around as if he could see were it had gone. Laughter circled the Death Eaters once more.

"Poor confused little Harry." The red-eyed man teased. "Do you even know who I am?"

A wary shake of the head came from Harry. The man's grin merely took on another level of scary.

"I am the Dark Lord Voldemort."

Silence abounded as words failed the green-eyed boy and the Death Eaters knew better than to speak. After a moment just past comfortable for Harry, Voldemort spoke.

"Well, draw your wand then, child. I trust you have been taught the proper decoreum?"

But the teenager wasn't up to that part of the sentence yet.

"W-wand?"

The eerie eyes widened at the query.

"Yes, your wand," Voldemort spoke slower now, wheels turning in his head as heads resorted themselves. "Were you not being trained for such a confrontation?"

"Maybe. They never seemed to get around to it."

"They… For the past six **years**…?"

"Oh no not years! I've only been with them for these holidays. And only because they kidnapped me."

"Ah. You were never offered to learn magic?" Voldemort was curios now - no wand, no training what on Earth had Dumbledore been doing with the Boy Who Lived (_Before I had Dumbledore killed._)

"I was offered. I just wasn't interested."

The passive threat of the Dark Lord himself couldn't quell the shouts that broke out among the gathered Death Eaters. The Dark Lord Voldemort allowed them to argue among themselves for a while, before silencing them;

"Quiet!"

His command for quiet was as effective as any silencing charm. He took a moment to make a show of the moment. He looked around at his loyal followers, letting a soft chuckle spill forth.

"The Boy Who Lived - the Chosen One - every Mudblood's last hope!" he crowed the titles. "And he turned his back on **magic**!"

On cue, the crowd jeers and the Dark Lord turns back to his victim.

"This is almost disappointing. So simple just to kill you right… Of course. Why kill you here? Here were only my already loyal followers will bare witness? No, I have a far more productive plan for you. If you won't entertain me with a duel, then you can do me a different favour."

To his credit, at least Harry dodged well enough that a Death Eater was stunned before he was.

Coming to once more, Harry Potter looked around. He was up on some sort of stage it seemed. Below and stretching out far in front of him was a primarily terrified crowd of bizarre individuals.

"Witches, Wizards and all other magic folk!" the familiar voice was not loud per se, but it certainly carried across the crowd.

"I stand before, Harry Potter!"

The crowd was to terrified to react.

Voldemort stood, parading about, right in Diagon Ally.

Where were the Aurors?

Where was the Order?

Where was the help?

They knew where the Death Eaters were.

They surrounded the hapless civilians.

"Today you all will bare first hand witness to an anniversary worthy date - to history in the making!"

The Death Eaters cheered, and the crowd unenthusiastically followed suit (_They could and would kill as with any small excuse_).

"Today is the day that the 'Boy Who Lived' fails to, ah ha, live up to his name. Today you will see Harry Potter die!"

From that day on, everyone who had been in Diagon Ally that day could see thestrals.

* * *

Whose fate do you want to see?

What happens in this world to your favourite (or least favourite) character?

Request a character in your review.


	9. King's Cross

Randomly regular update (This must be madness).

Thanks to Stauneage (yet again) for giving me the idea to write this chapter.

I thought this might clear up one more plot thread.

* * *

Even at 17 years of age, Harry Potter hadn't been here much. He had come to Kings Cross Station to see his cousin go to far off places or to greet various Dursley relatives. Once, he had come here to go to a camp. Once, he had come here to visit a friend (_a precious commodity he'd been allowed since he turned 11_).

But even with the limited exposure, he had also thought of the high ceilinged train station to be the ultimate place of coming and going.

Perhaps it was no surprise that it was this place that he imagined.

The boy did wish though, almost desperately, that the small, soft thumping sound from the mist would stop. It sounded pitiful, as if something was flapping, flailing and just generally struggling. As if something small was struggling. Like a child-

Harry cut himself off and looked around at the oddly clean train station once more. It occurred to him that he was unclothed and, just as he wished that wasn't true an outfit appeared before him. Jeans, a shirt, underwear - the works.

Except that clothes don't just appear out of nowhere. (_It's freakish._)

The boy did not put on the clothes.

He looked around again (trying to distract himself from the weirdness) and was once again drawn to the simpering sounds. He looked around, trying to spot the source. Eventually the mist in front of him cleared enough for him to see the babe-like thing shoved under a bench with raw, rough skin. He recoiled from it.

Harry Potter would not approach the repulsive thing.

"Harry."

The boy spun at the soft sigh of words. Behind him stood an old man with long silver hair and beard, a crooked nose, piercingly blue eyes behind half-moon spectacles and dressed in some sort of robe dyed midnight blue.

"You don't know who I am, do you?"

The boy shook his head (_what kind of teenager needs manners anyway?_).

"I am Albus Dumbledore."

The old man seemed to pause for a response. Except the boy had no response to give. As the expectant silence ran on, he said the only thing he could think of.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Harry Potter."

By the distraught look that fell over the man's face that was not the thing to say and Harry couldn't help but follow through with the impulse to say,

"Sorry sir."

"It is hardly your fault, m'boy. This spiraled far out of hand far too quickly."

His blue eyes seemed to pierce Harry's very soul and Harry remembered that he was, in fact, still naked. Stealing a glance at the (_impossible_) clothes he decided to at least hold them in front of himself.

The old man muttered, seemingly to himself, as he looked into the boy's heart;

"I wonder, though, what would have happened had you come to school that first year."

The old man walked closer, stepping a few strides away when Harry backed away nervously.

"Please, sir, do you- do you know what happened to me?"

"Indeed. You are, as it stands, in a limbo. You are no longer living but not yet dead."

"I'm…" Harry could barely finish the thought.

"Harry, please listen. There is a way you can return to the world of the living. There are indeed a great many people wishing you were alive and depending on you."

"But I'm dead."

The finality was disturbing. Dumbledore had expected the boy - the young man - to be far more prepared for death than the one that stood before him. Yet the man in front of him seemed to accept it readily. (_No hope in magical miracles to set everything right_).

The old man looked as if he would speak again, but scene was broken. Over and over again the boy repeated those three words.

Not always audible.  
But always repeated.

And the train took Harry Potter away.

* * *

Thanks to all my reviewers and alerters; Justpucky, Stauneauge, minerva.m1997, sarahpotter42, Balmz and pollypocket95.

Whose fate do you want to see?

What happens in this world to your favourite (or least favourite) character?

Request a character in your review.


	10. Epilogue

Phew! After much procrastination and writing two separate one-shots for a completely different fiction, I've finally got the last chapter.

If you can think of anyone to add, pass it along in a review or PM me.

Hope you all enjoy.

* * *

Even with their last hope so publically dashed, only one thing stopped the remaining members of the Order of the Phoenix from fighting. Death.

Ron Weasley died a content death as he was struck down after killing Voldemort's familiar, Nagini. He had heard, after all, that his sister had been killed by a giant snake of some sort.

Molly Weasley saw each member of her family die in the ensuing war. With the last of them dead, she threw herself body and soul into the war and went out fighting, just as they had.

Sirius Black found Peter Pettigrew at a Death Eater raid one night. The Death Eaters found it difficult to identify that it was indeed Wormtail's mutilated body that had expired.

During the war, a mysterious black Grim lived up to it's superstition and heralded death to almost all that saw it.

The Grim was found by Moony one full moon night and, even through the blood, the canines recognised each other. Unfortunately, this recognition carried over to Remus Lupin's waking hours in which he murdered Sirius Black in his sleep.

Neville Longbottom is captured by Death Eaters and requested by Bellatrix Lestrange. He is soon sent to share his parents room at St. Mungo's.

Serverus Snape had watched his the child of his only love die in Diagon Alley and with the boy died his last allegiance to the Order of the Phoenix. Voldemort found him to be even more useful than usual as a spy and it was only thanks to Alastor Moody that he was rejected from the Order after only a few weeks. He rose to a unique power of solitude, remaining in the Dark Lord's shadow.

The Malfoy's rise to high power and enjoy the lap of luxury that comes with being one of the Dark Lord's finest.

The Grangers are murdered in their home on one of the many Muggle town raids.

The Dursley's follow suit, though at a much later date.

Rubeus Hagrid fails to rally the giants to the Order's cause, but dies valiantly with Grawp by his side. They took out a half of Voldemort's human army in their last fight.

The Lovegoods manage to stay completely neutral throughout the whole war and emerge largely unscathed. Though no one refers to them as being merely odd anymore and many believe the pair deserve a room in St. Mungo's.

The stress of the war eventually catches up with Minerva McGonagall and she dies of a heart attack as she sleeps.

* * *

Thank you to all my reviewers;

Staunage, MangekyoMasta510, wizard muggle, eternal vampire, complex-manifold, slytherinslut13, Monki-Neko, favfantasy1, Justpucky, minerva.m1997, Balmz and pollypocket95.

You gave me inspiration, helped me fill in plotholes, helped me write a better quality story and just overall made me happy :)

And that, my friends, is;

_**The End**_


End file.
